


The Collected.

by WthTorke



Category: Laid to Rest (2009), The Collection (2012), The Collector Series (Movies)
Genre: Gay Male Character, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-Reader Reader, M/M, Multi, Non-binary Reader - Freeform, Other, Slasher, Trans Male Reader, male reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WthTorke/pseuds/WthTorke
Summary: A Collection of One-Shots featuring AsaEmory/The Collector and/or Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull x Reader, be it Male, nb or Trans c:
Relationships: Asa Emory/Reader, Asa emory x reader, Jesse Cromeans X reader, Jesse Cromeans/Reader, Slasher/Reader, The Collector (Collector Series)/Reader, The Collector (Collector Series)/You, The Collector/Male Reader, chromeskull/reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. Insomnia. (Asa x NB Reader)

Asa has projects, many projects.

He seeks locations, makes up identities, places, and whatnot. Like the secret club in the second movie and his lab in the abandoned hotel.

As he’s searching once, very late at night, he finds himself in this street, and besides the streetlamps, there’s only one window light up, not by tv light or a nightlight, just a normal bulb. He’d stare at it for a few seconds, jolting back slightly when a figure walked by the window, before narrowing his eyes slightly.

He takes an interest.

And for the person, that’s never a good sign.

Asa finds out quickly about them, he always does. He didn’t search all of his victims, especially when he was pent up and just took it off on someone, as much as he hated doing that, it wasn’t planned and that alone bothered him greatly

But this one, he went a step further for this one.

A pharmacy record told him they were anxious, which was probably the cause of the lack of sleep, and while they didn’t take heavy medication, it was sure enough to make his interest peak even more.

So he started watching them.

He settled for a nearby project, a simple drug dealing kind of place that would attract as many test subjects one could want.

It wasn’t his first choice, not really. But it was closest to his current obsession’s place, so of course, he took it. He felt both smug and frustrated when he followed them home, seeing them eye his dealing location with fear, walking faster by it, afraid, dreading it.

While Asa usually basked in watching people’s face contort in whatever unpleasant feeling it was, he didn’t enjoy it on them, it felt wrong, they weren’t supposed to feel that.

He didn’t _want_ them to feel that.

That’s when he noticed shit was going downhill.

It had barely been 2 weeks.

Asa could get a lot done in two weeks, sure. But to make him feel (as disgusting as that sounded to him) something in under _2 weeks?_ He refused to accept it. 

Asa wasn’t delusional.

He wasn’t _crazy._

He noticed he might have been …over fantasizing them.

They were just a normal someone living in a shitty place, they had trouble sleeping, were naive enough to actually leave the lights on at such time at night, and they probably didn’t take the anxiety medicine seriously, or else they wouldn’t be so…afraid.

They walked as if the very lamposts plotted against them.

That also made Asa feel something.

Again, not the usual thrill of knowing someone was fearing him or what he might do to them. He just…Didn’t want bad things to happen to this one person.

Another sign something was wrong was that Asa was growing impatient.

Asa.

_Impatient._

Who would have thought?

Certainly not him.

Asa usually had no trouble being invisible, it was his…job, to be invisible. His majoring and license were like his hobbies. The collection and everything that came with it was his job. The testing, the planning, the execution, the solving of problems, and…improvising.

But he couldn’t bear the thought of not existing to this person.

He observed them. He knew exactly what type of victim they’d be. What they’d say when he chased them, what they’d try to plead, what routes they would try to escape on, and especially what they would scream when he stabbed them.

But he didn’t find any excitement in that.

He wondered about the things he didn’t know instead.

Things he rarely wondered about, normally.

Asa wondered if they’d sleep better knowing he was there to protect them at night, and if they’d be interested in his collection. His…“ normal” one, at first.

If they’d be kind and speak to him in whispers in the morning when they hadn’t gotten out of bed yet. If they were affectionate, tactile, or a reserved lover, wondered if they’d moan his name or just kiss him when he-.

Asa had been close, many times to make a move. To approach, talk, or just _maybe-._

No, he couldn’t.

He couldn’t force himself on this one. He couldn’t just kidnap them.

and it frustrated him to no end. Not having his way when having his way was all he lived for.

Asa didn’t believe in fate. He made his own fate.

But he was sure speechless when someone ran into him when he was unloading new terrariums from his car.

He was sure he’d murder them when he heard the, oh so _familiar_ voice stuttering an apology, reaching quickly to stabilize the fragile containers.

Asa could feel his eyes dilating, his ears perking up like they did when he was hunting someone, damn his hairs were standing on _end._

“- I’m _so sorry,_ I- fuck, did I break anything? I’m so-, Oh, they’re beautiful,” they said, looking at the terrariums in Asa’s arms, much to his delight. “Again, I’m sorry. My fish would kill me if it found out I made another fish homeless by breaking their stuff,” they laughed, nervous. No, anxious, “I have a few mollies.”

Asa knew.

“My aquarium looks like this one, actually,”

Asa _also_ knew.

“I-, I’m sorry, I’m rambling.” They looked down, fingers retreating from the glass, and Asa wanted to scream.

“…They’re for…Tarantulas. Not fish,” he said instead, his fixation’s eyes widening slightly as he did. “Spiders, huh? Wow,” they started, and Asa was ready for disappointment.

“You’re a brave one,” they laughed softly, “I heard some of them are, um, docile?” they said, rubbing their arm up and down as he could tell they were picturing the spiders inside the, now empty, containers.

 _“..Some,_ yes,” he said and watched his person smile. The corners of Asa’s lips turned up slightly, his mind whirling with plans with his new muse already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm WthTorke on Tumblr, I take requests and commissions over there ;) Hope you like this lil collection from my posts!
> 
> Would love to know what you think!


	2. Professor. (Asa x Male Reader)

Asa hated his normal job. Being a teacher at some college was not how he wanted to spend his precious time, even more knowing the projects that awaited him, starved, dehydrated in some secret place he set up so carefully.

Being a college teacher wasn’t _fun,_ it had no challenges to his intelligence, only challenges to his _patience._

One would think Asa would love to trace and memorize the personalities and profiles of his students, but so could any moron. It didn’t take a genius to know X was cheating on Y with Z, it didn’t.

Asa didn’t fry his brains trying to think which of them would be part of his collection because _none_ would make it, he had standards.

Asa liked to test them. Every semester new faces came in, taking his class in hopes of easy points at the same time others dropped it because Asa’s class was anything _but_ easy points, his essays required research and brainpower.

A new semester was around, and so came the new faces, and to his surprise, one of them caught his attention. It wasn’t hard to catch Asa’s attention, he was very observant, always watching and paying attention to his surroundings, but this student.

Well, he was different.

For one, he had hair longer than average for the males of his age, going just past medium with a slight wave to it, just enough to frame his face just right, high cheekbones that Asa knew would make some of the girls jealous, especially the more empty-headed ones.

Asa’s obsidian eyes caught the color of said boy’s eyes, a warm honey tone that he was sure would melt most of the teachers in their circle of classes. His skin was fair, a bit pale even, but a good portion of his class was pale, the “nerds that didn’t often see sunlight”, save for the dumbasses that made Asa keep believing in stereotypes that took his class, all bulging muscles, and no brain, hunting matter only.

The boy was 24 at _most,_ 22 at minimum, and Asa was both glad and slightly frustrated when he learned later that day that he was _23._

But what Asa caught right away was that he was taken, a bracelet hanging around a healthy-looking wrist with a little carved beetle pendant.

He had seen one like that earlier that day.

On someone who he judged as _‘cheating’_ as soon as he saw.

Asa didn’t know to feel glad or angry, probably both, which was something.

Asa’s strict rule was not to touch any obvious college kids, especially the ones that had or could have any contact with his class or the biology surrounding it. Asa was tired of hearing about 'fellow’ teachers getting fired because of students.

Asa had little trouble with students trying to flirt or hit on him, not because of his looks but because of his rather imposing nature. Asa was tall, and on the contrary to what people might believe, he was quite toned, the demanding of his…hobby, being rather extreme at times.

Girls and boys who approached him, be it begging for missing scores by the finals or just 'to have fun’ were equally shut down very quickly. Not that Asa didn’t feel attracted to some of them, he did.

He just wasn’t stupid.

Asa’s first day of lecture came around and there sat “The couple”.

The boy he found endearing and his imbecile of a boyfriend. They both paid attention and took notes and judging by the way the soft boy held the idiot’s hand, their bracelets touching as they did, Asa knew he was oblivious to the rotten personality of his lover.

Maybe he should show it to him.

The thought crossed his mind quickly and made itself at home in the back of his head, much to the cheater’s secret dismay.

It wasn’t hard.

Asa knew of someone equally (and if not more) slutty that would give in fairly easy if he set things just right.

And he did.

A few messages from unknown numbers and a week into the semester Asa had managed and planned a whole discovery, fight, and breakup.

The date between the two was set, time, and place just right.

He knew they wouldn’t back off, he felt a far tinge of disgust while reading the texting he had clipped to keep track of.

_“It has to be quick, I have a boyfriend.”_

Asa did not pity humanity overall, this only made it reach even far negative numbers. But he was glad it would come to an end by his hand, whether they knew it or not.

He made sure the date was by his office, which _“should be empty.”_

But of course, he’d be there, “working overtime grading papers.”

Papers he had collected 2 days ago.

Asa didn’t allow himself to feel proud of it, it was far too easy.

The night came around and he was in his office, the main light off, only his small desk lamp illuminating the papers he had neatly stacked on his table. Hell, he had even graded a few of them to keep up with the act.

All was one anonymous text away from happening.

Asa pulled the disposable phone from his pocket and set to work. _“Your bfs cheating on you near Emory’s office, be quick.”_

That was it. He didn’t have to worry about any replies, he knew he’d come, who wouldn’t?

Asa texted a few more girls he knew would make it public quickly.

It would be a shitshow, right in front of Asa’s office.

Not that he cared, he was just “doing his job.”

Not 7 minutes later, a quick look out his window proved all his theories to be right.

There came the storming boy, walking quickly, phone gripped tight in hand, with at least 10 other cunts trailing after him, no wonder to see a fight or any of what was about to happen. _“What the fuck is going on here?!”_ Asa heard just outside his door.

He heard stuttering and gave it exactly three seconds before opening his door.

“P-Professor?!” said the cheating bastard, surprised and fearing, though Asa supposed he feared being both expelled and dumped and not his authority. There stood the boy, face red with unshed tears, shoulders tense and teeth-gritting as he struggled to deal with what he just saw.

His boyfriend, or well, his ex-boyfriend, and the little boy slut Asa had to rightfully casted for the act didn’t even try to move or to explain, it was very clear what was just happening.

Everything was followed soon enough by the snickering, phone clicks, laughter, mean jokes, and well, everything else that involved a scandal.

“What is going on here?” He asked, calmly crossing his arms, his voice icy cold.

 _“Fuck you!”_ Was all the boy said, throwing the bracelet into the idiot’s face, flipping the “mistress” off as well before storming off, the small crowd parted to give him a path as the jeering got louder and louder.

Until Asa himself had enough of it and dismissed them, making sure to call in the college principal to let him know of the chaos that just happened and was still happening.

Neither of the three had the balls to show up to class the next day.

Just like Asa had predicted.

Looking into the campus’ system, he saw a request to change dorms from the boy who sadly currently shared one with his now ex-boyfriend. Though Asa doubted he was staying in it.

It worried him for about two seconds until he remembered kids these days had friends and he was probably fine with someone.

It was at night that something he hadn’t quite predicted happened.

He got an email.

_“Professor Emory,_

_I can’t express enough how embarrassed I am with the situation you (and the rest of the campus) have witnessed two nights ago. I’m deeply sorry for my reaction, I didn’t mean to come across as rude to you or anyone present but my surprise and feelings got in the way. I hope you accept this apology and allow me to keep attending your class on Monday._

_Sincerely, Elijah M.”_

Asa’s eyebrows raised as he read it, furrowed as he processed it, and set to a frown as he sighed. Of course, the boy was polite. _Of course,_ he was lovely and didn’t deserve any of the bad side of it happening to him, and it only made Asa’s interest for him grow even more.

Asa had been trying not to think about his name, calling him the boy of the soft one in his head as not to get attached. But seeing the name at the bottom of an apology email for something he did not fault for was too much.

_Elijah._

It was sweet like him.

“Fuck,” Asa thought tiredly as he rubbed his temples, gathering will to write a reply.

_“Elijah._

_Feel free to attend the classes as you will as long as you remember our deadlines and projects._

_Professor Emory.”_

“That was dull enough,” he thought.

The next Monday, there he was. And so was his ex-boyfriend. Elijah sat on the opposite side, on the left side of the classroom. First row, closer to Asa’s table.

His ex-boyfriend arrived seconds before the bell rang, taking three steps towards him before the poisonous look Elijah sent him had him walking back to his original seat, where Elijah used to sit with him.

Asa was quite…satisfied.

He began his lecture, as usual. Checking on Elijah now and then from the corner of his eye, the boy either took notes on his notebook or staring out the window with a distant look in his eyes.

Not that Asa could blame him.

The bell rang again and the class was dismissed, the ex-boyfriend glanced at Elijah again before walking out.

Eventually, everyone had left, except for Asa and Elijah.

Asa’s next 2 hours would be of grading papers or planning classes or well, doing whatever the fuck he wanted, as long as it was teacher stuff.

He quirked a brow at Elijah when the boy didn’t move to get up.

“My next class is also with him.”

_As if Asa didn’t know._

“Can I stay here? I don’t…want to go yet” He said, fingers curling around the handle of the backpack, ready to leave if Asa told him to.

Which was not going to happen.

“Stay all you want,” He said as he sat down, the boy sinking back into his seat, a smile gracing his lips, but not quite reaching the sad eyes, “Thank you.”

After a while, Elijah bit his lip, pulling out two sandwiches from his backpack, staring at the extra one like it would murder him.

He looked up at Asa, brief confidence as he spoke, “Do you want one? I…forgot, and packed two.”

Asa considered two possibilities. One, he had forgotten he was cheated on four nights ago and packed two sandwiches on auto. Or two, this was a move on Asa, be it gratitude or a _move._

Asa bit the bullet.

“Sure.”

Elijah had already finished his when Asa finally opened the sandwich, setting his pen aside as he neared the end of grading that particular stack of papers, stopping on, ironically, Elijah’s paper about comet moths.

Elijah must have thought himself sneaky, stealing glances on Asa’s stack of paper as he ate

“…Did I do good?”

Asa stopped chewing.

“I hope you like it” he sighed.

Asa slowly smirked behind the sandwich.

_Move._

They went on with this for a little while, Elijah would keep Asa company every day they had a class just before lunch, which was three times a week. Asa didn’t usually eat enough but everyday Elijah would bring him a sandwich.

People took it as a teacher’s pet behavior, considering Asa caught him and the other two outside his office not too long ago. It was playing just as perfectly as Asa had intended.

Asa still had his side projects, of course. Cutting and carving whatever useless fly was dumb enough to fall into his web. Whatever didn’t make it to the collection made up for a few hours or days of fun before he grew tired of them.

Still, Elijah never failed to cross Asa’s mind, even when he was in the middle of…well, killing someone. One night, Asa met a particularly strong prey and got his forearm cut, he showed up to class with a bandaged arm and slightly bruised knuckles.

Of course, Elijah noticed.

“You fought with someone? What happened?”

The worry was evident, both in his eyes and his voice.

How sweet.

“Drunk man outside my house had a blade on him,” He said simply.

Elijah gasped, getting up from his chair, hesitating a bit but getting closer anyway, the brave thing. “Are you well? Did you go to the hospital?”

Asa nodded _(a lie),_ and even then Elijah’s throat worked as he looked at his hands.

“Let me see.”

Asa lifted his obsidian eyes to glare into warm honey ones, slowly laying his hands on the table, wary but not stopping Elijah from slowly reaching for them.

Elijah’s hands were slightly cold, probably from the anxiety of the contact with him.

Fingers gently running over the angry red marks and some purple ones here and there on Asa’s knuckles, Elijah hissed a bit, as if the action stung _him_ and not Asa much to Asa’s amusement.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Professor Emory,” He said, still looking at the knuckles, lips pursing as he thought.

Elijah wanted to kiss the knuckles, to put the strong hands against his face, and just feel their warmth like he’d been dreaming of in the last few days.

It started innocently, but the fact that a professor was more understanding and willing to keep him company more than people his age, more than his _friends_ made him more…vulnerable to such thoughts. Asa Emory had something about him that Elijah couldn’t quite tell what it was.

But it was…special? Well, it was sure _intense._

Elijah hadn’t met someone as intense as Asa since middle school, and he hadn’t felt anything then.

But he sure did now.

“I need my hands back, Elijah.” Snapped Elijah from his trance, hands squeezing involuntarily before he let go of Asa’s hands, the man smirking in amusement at him, “I’m sorry-, I didn’t mean, sorry.”

Asa huffed, shaking his head as he turned to his papers, pretending he didn’t hear the beeping Elijah’s phone was making.

Elijah cursed, setting it to buzz mode, but when the phone wouldn’t stop buzzing he turned it to silent, sinking to his chair with a heavy sigh, hands rubbing his pretty face.

“He still doesn’t leave you alone.”

It wasn’t a question.

“He…insists I talk to him” Elijah sighed, “To.."Work things out” “ He said, "I don’t want it” he frowned, “I’m not stupid.”

Asa nodded, face blank as he continued grading papers.

Two weeks later Asa could tell Elijah was growing restless, and he couldn’t blame him. Asa didn’t pull him close but neither did he push him away.

Asa was patient.

Elijah? Not so much.

By the end of the semester, before Christmas rolled around, Elijah was sitting in front of Asa’s table for the last time in the year. He wouldn’t have classes with him the next year.

“Professor Emory,” Asa smirked at the fake confidence in his voice. They were alone in Asa’s office, alone in the building even, it was well past 2 pm, the morning students and teachers vanished completely until the night students and teachers came around, it was snowing heavily outside, nobody was near.

“Asa.” He said, catching Elijah’s surprised expression briefly.

“A…Asa.” He tried again, a blush creeping his cheekbones which he’d probably blame it on the cold if someone asked, “I wanted to talk to you, I’m-”

“Interested.”

Elijah’s eyes widened in surprise, “I-, What? How-,” and suddenly everywhere but Asa’s face seemed very interesting.

Asa’s smirk grew just enough for Elijah to look back at him, sighing, “Yes, I’m…interested in you” He tried, _again_ “I wanted to ask if you…maybe feel the same way?”

Asa nodded, “What if I do?”

Elijah’s throat worked as he gulped, making Asa’s eyes drift there before back up at his eyes, his perfect face.

“I-, I don’t know, I’m just attracted to you, we’re not having…classes together next year so it wouldn’t be _entirely_ wrong if we-, did whatever you want to do.”

Asa raised a brow as Elijah’s blush seemed to intensify as 'whatever he wanted to do’ seemed to flash in his mind.

“Come here.”

Elijah felt his muscles tighten at that, a few breaths passing before his body finally complied and he walked to Asa’s table.

“Sit.” He said, firmly. And if it wasn’t for the hand resting on his thigh, Elijah might have thought he meant the floor.

Elijah bit his lip taking a step forward but glancing back at the door briefly.

gasping and looking back as Asa pulled on his arm, making him all but fall on his lap, hands bracing against Asa’s hard chest as he sat upright, thighs straddling Asa’s hips.

Elijah had little time to look into the dark, deep obsidian eyes before he felt lips against his throat and arms snaking around his torso, pulling him flush against Asa’s abs and chest as felt teeth biting his neck, “Profes-, _Asa!_ The door-.”

“It’s locked,” Asa said against his skin, a hand creeping up to grasp the nape of his neck to keep him from turning while he kissed and bit his fill of the boy’s soft, pale neck.

The question of 'how’ died in his throat as he felt Asa’s hand palming his pants, a moan finding a way out of his mouth instead, much to Asa’s delight.

The swiftness in which Asa undid Elijah’s pants was impressive, but everything turned to nothing when he felt warm fingers inside his boxers, grabbing and squeezing his already hard dick.

Elijah’s hand came up to Asa’s strong shoulders as he panted, eyes closed as one hand jerked him off with _expertise_ while the other was tangled in his hair, pulling his head back so Asa could attack his throat again as he worked.

his breathing was coming off in hot huffs that disappeared into the cold air as his moaning intensified, somewhere in the back of his head, he knew he should be silent, but he just couldn’t manage, it was too much.

too much was beyond that when Asa started speaking into his ear, “You’ve been thinking of this, haven’t you? My hands on your body, my tongue against yours.” He said, and only then Elijah noticed they hadn’t even kissed yet.

He tried looking down, only to have both his hair and dick tugged harder, a half moan half gasp leaving his throat as Asa continued to stroke him.

Elijah was seeing white spots as he closed his eyes, barely forming the words 'I’m going to’ before he spent himself in Asa’s hand, abs contracting, muscles tensing as he half screamed his orgasm with a _“Fuck!”_

Elijah was barely down the intense wave before the hand in his hair guided his head down, lips crashing against his, Asa’s hot tongue all but dominating him in both the best and most exciting kiss he’s ever had in his life.

His body was putty, Asa’s hands holding him up, his legs shaking against Asa’s sides as Asa broke the kiss, violent, possessive eyes staring at Elijah’s sex hazed ones.

Elijah panted, soft moans leaving his throat as Asa’s fingers softened against his sore scalp, massaging and caressing his hair and the skin beneath, lips coming back to seal against him, softer this time and Elijah was thankful for that, arms wrapping around Asa’s neck, muscles still twitching once in a while.

It was going to be a long and _delightful_ winter break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm WthTorke on Tumblr, I take requests and commissions over there ;) Hope you like this lil collection from my posts!
> 
> Would love to know what you think!


	3. Wild Fire. (Asa X Jesse X Male Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lil background first, s/o is a pyromaniac and well, he’s murdered ppl as well lmao

Jesse wanted a bit of fun, so he started researching some crazy-ass motherfuckers like him because one, he was bored and two, someone had the gall to tell him he needed some friends.

Out of 10 files in his hands, he picks out two.

One of a strange masked man and another one that’s blurry as fuck because there’s a raging fire in the background, but he can make out the faint outline of a face.

All the info they had on them didn’t make one full page.

Jesse loved a good challenge.

So Jesse sets his people on the hunt for these men. The pyromaniac seemed to move a lot while the masked man had one very broad area of terror.

It was fun, being on the chase he set up, seeing rushed pictures, asking around, torturing people to get answers. It was fun.

It was _really_ fun.

The masked man, ‘The Collector’ as he came to know, noticed something was off and disappeared while the pyromaniac called him from a disposable phone to ask why the fuck was he 'snooping up on his shit’.

Jesse couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed that hard. How the fuck did he even get the number? Well, it didn’t matter now, it would later, but it didn’t matter now.

Not as he set up a 'date’ with the pyromaniac, surprised when he showed up, sitting across Jesse in some restaurant they agreed on. Jesse had at least 3 snipers ready to blow his brains up had he tried anything.

He let him know and in return, he also said the place was littered with explosives and that they’d both most definitely die.

Jesse has never had a more fun date.

As time went by, they grew closer and closer, Jesse liked the absolute chaos the man could bring up in such a short time and the awfully charming and interesting conversation he could muster up. But what he loved more was the contrast of that to the moans he made when Jesse was buried to the hilt in his ass.

They still had to find The Collector, however. Jesse’s partner had one look at the file and made a small 'ooh, I know how to get him’.

Hell, he fucking did actually.

He was the one survivor in one of The Collector’s little games, pretending to be scared and even crying as he was shoved in a trunk, the micro-camera in his shirt giving Jesse one hell of a show.

Jesse worked quickly so his partner wouldn’t, well, be tortured by Asa just yet. Jesse talked to Asa, and Asa didn’t really have anywhere to run. Even if he killed the man he captured, Jesse would still know.

So he played their game, getting…really into it somewhere between letting his newest piece (who also seems to be his partner now) out of his trunk and months later when the same man kissed him breathlessly in the shower in one of Jesse’s houses.

The three had done some work together, each having fun with victims and then having fun with each other back home.

One time, however, things didn’t go according to plan.

Jesse doesn’t really know where or when things went wrong. All he knew was the cold spike up his spine when he saw the knife sinking into their 'Butterfly’s abs as two escapees ganged up on him after running from Jesse himself.

The last thing Jesse’s brain registered was the distressed, painful cry that left his lover’s throat.

When he came back to himself, there was blood. Blood, bits of face, flesh, and scalp in his hands. His knives were filthy, his boots were beyond salvation.

And then Asa.

Asa shook his shoulder while still holding a very pale man in his arms, his hands struggling to press his own mangled shirt to his abs to contain all the blood.

The ringing stopped. Jesse got them out of there, calling the doctors he always had set and prepared in case things went wrong.

And things went very wrong.

The surgery lasted many hours, more than Jesse had the patience to wait for, Asa himself couldn’t stay still.

'He’s gonna be okay’ was the phrase that had them both finally breathing again. Jesse rarely thought about other people, he didn’t have to.

Normally, he’d say 'nice’ and go out again, call to have news if he felt worried, and only set foot in there when the man could at least walk again.

But he couldn’t do that this time.

He didn’t want to, he couldn’t bring himself to even think about leaving them now.

Asa took a few days off work and they wouldn’t really leave the house, both knowing the man was resting upstairs, still unconscious from the surgery, still breathing shallowly. 

The blade hadn’t gone too deep, he wouldn’t have trouble eating or well, shitting.

“He pulled back a bit in time,’ the doctor said, 'it was just a fright’.

When he woke up, they were both at his side.

He was… surprised like he didn’t expect them to be there.

But happy, nonetheless. 

As the days go by and he slowly recovers, he finds himself always in the company of one of them. Jesse pressed into his good side, arm wrapped around him, resting against the couch. Jesse’s face buried into his neck, peppering kisses up and down his neck, stopping briefly to nip at his earlobe before a hand came up to his face, Jesse bringing his face closer to kiss his face while he himself just wanted to watch some damn TV.

Not that he was complaining, though. He definitely didn’t mind the open displays of affection he was getting. It was good to be pampered, and he was enjoying every second of it, sighing every time he thought about it ending when he got better.

Asa himself was more attentive, letting his hand drag back and forth as he caressed whatever part of him he could reach, be it his arm, his shoulder, letting his fingers drag into his hair, holding his hand when he was reading by his side and just holding him close as he dozed off to some documentary about spiders playing in the background.

As he got better and better, the wound fading into a pink scar, they were finally given the green sign to…resume their bedroom activities.

If he had thought he was being pampered, he definitely wasn’t prepared for the amount of touching, praise, and kisses he got their first night back together.

Asa would whisper into his ear as Jesse kissed down his chest, stopping briefly over the fresh, sensitive scar, softly blowing over it, and smirking at the slight shiver he felt underneath him.

Usually, they’d go for over one round. There were three of them, rarely all of them felt sated with just one, but all three were pent up and tired, stressed from all the days of recovery so he soon found himself sandwiched between the two most dangerous murderers he’d ever met, panting, hot, sweaty and coming down from the high of their orgasms.

Jesse turned on the ac and just slumped back into bed, barely pulling up the skull-printed boxers around his hips as he wrapped his arms around the tired pyromaniac between them. Asa mostly let Jesse hold him, just draping an arm over him but making sure they tangled their legs, so he’d know he was also there.

That they weren’t going anywhere, ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm WthTorke on Tumblr, I take requests and commissions over there ;) Hope you like this lil collection from my posts!
> 
> Would love to know what you think!


	4. In Flight. (Asa X Male Reader)

Asa liked soft things.

It was strange, but he did.

Not as soft as in texture only. He found that he admired soft people, colors, and aesthetics. He always found himself drawn to the delicate, even though he had fun in breaking it whenever he had the chance.

It was no surprise when, even after two failed attempts, he chased after some dancing academy two towns over.

His interest in dancers was always memorable. There was something about the movement and knowing his hands could stop all of that in a heartbeat. That alone had him savoring every second.

Asa got into the backstage crew effortlessly: ‘We need more people,’ 'There’s a big play coming up.’ How sweet. Asa got to both setup and observe his prey with minimal trouble. He learned their set up, memorizing where each dancer would stand when the trap he had in mind did its work. It was perfect.

When paying attention to the lead dancer, however, Asa fell…. quite hard for him.

And while people thought dancing was 'different’, for 'interesting people’. Asa sure saw more empty heads here than he had in his classes. But this person was different, Asa knew it.

He moved with grace, determination, more fluidity. As if he didn’t have bones at all. And for the first time, Asa didn’t want to see them, at least not right away.

He was tall, all lean muscle and grace. Long, tight brown curls cascading down his shoulders, resting against his chest, always covered by that sheen layer of sweat from dancing nonstop for hours.

Asa caught bits of the play here and there. Only focusing when it’s about him, in particular. 'I haven’t cut my hair in over a year and a half now because of this,’ he’d laugh, saying he didn’t plan on cutting it after it was over either. It looked good on him, and Asa liked it. He’d help tend to it if he found it hard to keep back at home.

The director, however. A harsh middle-aged woman. Went hard on him all the time. She went hard on everyone, but even harder on him.

Unlike his peers, he’d perform with his hair down. The whips and movement of the hair were a part of his character and the story at hand. It had to be beautiful; it had to be perfect.

“From the beginning, now!” She’d shout as he’d finished his final bow. Barely having time to breathe before getting up, dashing back to his original spot. Hands trembling slightly, arching up as he started again.

Between the time Asa got the job and the premiere night, Asa had seen him faint twice. Overworked and overheated, dropping to the ground. His chest struggled to pull air in, eyes disoriented.

Dehydration. Both times.

Asa never wanted to blow a plan up like he had that time. They were ruining him. She was ruining him.

Still, both times he begged to stay in the role. Promising to do better, as if he was nothing but an amateur. As if he wasn’t already perfect.

He was sweet and lovely. So very gentle. So educated and polite.

Asa wanted to steal him away.

And he was going to.

Premiere night came and one of the lead dancers was sick, they couldn’t make it. And instead of just casting someone else, the old woman turned to him, barking at him to do his routine and theirs.

He paled at the words.

“Buy time! You’ll cover your time and theirs! It’s just pointe!”. “The backing dancers will change, you won’t. Stay on the stage and just go along.”

He agreed.

More likely, he didn’t have a choice.

“It’s the chance of my life,” he heard him say once.

The show started. Asa climbed up the railings behind the light set up to watch him, gaping as the curtains opened.

He stood there in full makeup and costume. Dressed in the colors of a monarch butterfly, a see-through butterfly mask rested over his features, hair down, framing his face, completing the overall aesthetic.

Asa almost lost track of time watching him jump, turn and glide through the stage so gracefully.

He was one of a kind, his butterfly.

Asa felt tense as the music shifted, the dancers at the back changing as he took another spot, breathing deeply and then standing on the tip of his toes, gliding around the stage. His arms did careful, gentle movements of a soft flap of wings, up and down, at the very pace of his “tiptoeing”.

He did this for almost 25 minutes, with minor breaks except for jumps and twirls, before resuming his tiptoeing as the back dancers carried on with the plot.

As he did his last bow, Asa noticed just how shiny his eyes looked.

Unshed tears.

Asa rushed backstage as the curtains closed, hunting for his butterfly amid the mess of dancers getting ready for the second act of the night.

He found him in a corner, getting talked down by the same old woman.

He was crying.

Getting closer, with the excuse of moving a prop. Asa heard what made him angry for the second time that night.

“My toes are bleeding,” spoken in a wet, sad, tired voice. Followed shortly by the bark of “Dunk them on some ice and be ready for the finale,” the woman said as she turned around and headed back to her directing place. The curtains opened again at the front of the stage.

Soon enough, it would all be over. But first, he needed to catch his hurt butterfly.

Asa moved the ice buckets farther to the back, where he was sure no one would be. His butterfly followed him, limping a bit, too polite to just yell at him to stop, as predicted.

The loud music prevented anything from going wrong, it was perfect.

“Sir? Excuse me-, can I have one bucket, please?”

Asa turned around and had to control himself not to just grab him, he was so beautiful.

“I… I hurt my toes badly,” he said, as if he had to explain himself.

Asa nodded, hauling one bucket up and handing it to him, watching as he set it down close to a chair, sitting down with a soft huff before looking at his feet.

Hands coming down, Asa’s eyebrows knitted together softly as he saw him hesitate, clearly afraid of undoing the lacing and seeing the actual state of his feet.

If Asa had a heart, it sure broke when he tried pulling the shoes off. A startling, pained cry and a fresh batch of tears coming down his pretty face. Muttering a soft, barely audible “Oh God…” as he sat back.

Asa acted before he thought, getting a step closer to him, “Do you need help?”

His butterfly’s face shot up, hands trying to dry the tears without messing up the makeup he thought he’d still need, “No-, I-, I’m sorry, I just-, I messed up, bad, I can’t, I can’t take them off-”

He didn’t, but Asa would not tell him that.

Asa crouched down, looking up at him when he gently grasped one of the strained ankles, the other hand grabbing the underside of the shoe, “Just breathe,” Asa found that he didn’t mind talking to this one, he’d never let him go.

Asa started pulling the shoes off, one by one. Gently forcing it downwards and then back to his chest, so they could set the toes free. The pained cries and whimpers of his butterfly fueling his wrath for every single person on that stage and crowd.

He busted his toes open, blood staining the white shoes into a reddish-pink on the outside, vivid blood on the inside. His butterfly cried freely as Asa gently placed the battered feet into the ice bucket. He shivered a bit when he heard the pained cries turning into pained moans and then soft sobbing as the clear water turned swirling red. Asa mumbled gentle, “shhhhh”s out of habit and the need to comfort him somehow.

A soft “Thank you” made Asa look back up at him, watching him take the mask off, shoulders shaking now and then with the soft sobs that bubbled up his chest.

Asa smiled a bit, hand reaching into his back pocket for the cloth he wetted with chloroform before leading him here.

In one swift move, Asa got up and pressed the cloth to his face. Locking his neck with his other arm as his butterfly thrashed, feet kicking the bucket and wetting the surrounding floor with bloody water and melting ice.

He slowly relaxed his grip as he also went lax, whimpers dying down as his eyes closed. He had brought the nicest trunk he had for him; it had a butterfly painted on the side. He opened it and walked back to his butterfly, taking him in his arms fully for the first time.

Asa couldn’t help but look at him for a second. His head leaned against his chest, face relaxed, and body limp in his arms.

Asa gently kissed his forehead, breathing in a lungful of the scent of his hair before nuzzling into it briefly. He walked to the trunk, gently placing his butterfly inside, promising to take care of his feet once they got home.

Closing the trunk, Asa turned around, placing both the mask and shoes on top of it before grabbing the remote control from his belt. Climbing the ladder again, he smirked as he pressed the button, hearing terrified screaming not a second later as he watched everything unfurl from up.

Taking great satisfaction in watching the old witch die the most painful way.

Asa remembered all of this as he made his way to his butterfly’s room, a food tray in hand. As he opened the door, his butterfly sat up on the bed, bare feet touching the floor.

Asa set the tray down on the vanity before locking the door, walking to him, and kissing his forehead again. He smirked as he heard the soft sigh from his butterfly.

Asa crouched down to have a look at his feet. Despite them being healed for months now, Asa could never get over checking them. He always remembers the hardship it was to keep his butterfly calm while he bandaged them back in the first few days.

Asa chuckled as his butterfly lifted one of them, his foot touching his cheek, making him look up at him again. His butterfly’s smile melted him into oblivion as his hand came to rest at the foot playfully scratching his growing beard. He pushed all shaving thoughts aside as he kissed the healed toes, then the beautiful arch of his foot, until he was kissing his thigh. Skipping the rest to meet his smiling lips, arms wrapped around his butterflies as they fell back into bed, the food forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm WthTorke on Tumblr, I take requests and commissions over there ;) Hope you like this lil collection from my posts!
> 
> Would love to know what you think!


	5. Bartending. (Jesse Cromeans x Trans Reader)

Jesse goes to expensive clubs. Expensive places in general, and don't get him wrong, Jesse is bald and has tattoos.

But he also has money.

He doesn't have to deal with prejudice because he's rotten rich.

So when he sees this dude walking around there he's pleasantly stunned. He’s buffy, not that tall but he definitely hits the gym. He also has tattoos up to his chin.

Jesse wants to suck on his neck and trace the tattoos with his tongue.

So with a hard-on already he calls the man over. He’s handsome as fuck, his hair is short and slicked back, with shaved undersides.

Jesse offered him drinks and the look the man gave him told him the man was no simple plaything.

So he'd have to win him over with his ‘talk’, it seemed.

So he set to work, typing along with his phone for a good hour. In that hour he learned that his name was Alexander but that Jesse could call him Sasha. He learned that Sasha was a bartender and a tattoo artist in his free hours.

'Sasha', Jesse found it both funny and endearing, and by Sasha's reaction, he didn't mind his reaction to his name. Probably got that reaction often.

When asked what Sasha was doing there, he responded with 'just got off from work' and pointed back at the bar. Turns out Sasha was responsible for the very drinks that brought Jesse back to this club every month.

The next 30 minutes passed and Jesse was slowly sitting closer to him. Using his tattoos as an excuse to touch his skin, his fingers dragged up and down the man's thick, inked neck.

Sasha shifted a bit under his touch. Something slightly nervous in his gaze, and when Jesse's hand got down to his chest, Sasha's hand went up to grab his in a gentle manner, stopping him from inching down.

Jesse’s attention diverges from their hands when someone drops a glass to their right. Whipping his head around, Jesse notices the booth curtains were still open, looking back at Sasha for a second, who seemed slightly calmer, he types on his phone. ‘You wanna go for a ride?’

Sasha thought for a second before looking back up at him "Maybe."

Jesse chuckled and laid down the money for his drinks, feeling sober enough to drive. Not that he couldn't either pay or kill whatever cop was dumb enough to stop him.

Maybe he’d just ‘pay it’ since he'd have company.

Jesse held out a hand to help Sasha up and they left. Sasha guided Jesse out in the back so no one would see them. Jesse liked the way he thought.

Jesse opened the car door to Sasha and again the look he was given was enough to make him smile, that didn't happen so often.

When he sat down himself, Sasha saw Jesse picking up the phone again and said "You know, I understand ASL, you don't need to text and possibly kill us both," that was enough to make him chuckle.

Jesse drove them to the nearest place he owned, just as neat as any other house but he bought it close to the club for a reason, both enjoying himself and slaughtering any piggies he found nearby.

Though he was sure the place was clean as he guided Sasha out of the car, the man looked mildly impressed at the house. His thoughts were cut short when Jesse's hands rested on his hips, making him turn in time to catch Jesse's lips in his.

The blush that crept up Sasha's face was enough to make Jesse kiss him with more intensity, Sasha's hands coming up to his shoulders," Je-" he was cut short by another kiss, Jesse pushing them both back towards the stairs, to the bedroom.

On the stairs Sasha tried again, barely managing to say his name again before Jesse picked him up, carrying him up to the master bedroom.

Sasha was dropped onto the bed and looked absolutely in panic when Jesse's hand went for his pants, "Stop!" He panted, Jesse finally snapping out of the frenzy he'd been in. Jesse tilted his head slightly to the side.

Jesse stared at him for a second, breathing heavily as well.

Sasha looked at him in the eye, his hands on Jesse's shoulders again, "I've been trying to tell you" he sighed, "I'm-, I-"

Jesse struggled to understand for a moment, then Sasha's gaze went down to his own pants, then back up at Jesse, and then he realized it.

'Trans?' Jesse signed.

Sasha nodded.

Jesse sighed and then started chuckling, Sasha feeling his shoulders shake under his own hands, which withdrew as he frowned, "I'm out." Sasha almost growled, made to get up, clearly upset by being mocked.

The phrase made Jesse shoot his face back up, his hands making a 'no' gesture, pushing Sasha back down, making him look at him again.

'Not laughing of you, silly,'

'Don’t care,' he gestured, 'You turn me on, _you'_

He framed Sasha's face in his hands before gesturing to his body again, 'Beautiful'

Sasha could feel his face heating up at the words. Jesse came down to kiss his chin, 'Wanna go on?', when Sasha nodded, Jesse smiled, kissing him hard on the lips before moving down to his neck, finally savoring the tattoos he'd been looking for hours now. Sasha sighed in both arousal and relief under the kissing and sucking that promised a great night ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm WthTorke on Tumblr, I take requests and commissions over there ;) Hope you like this lil collection from my posts!
> 
> Would love to know what you think!


	6. There For You. (Jesse Cromeans x Male Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft, hurt Jesse tho

Jesse had a boyfriend before his...accident.

But just like his previous marriage, Jesse started getting distant and it slowly grits their relationship to dust.

He loved his boyfriend a lot actually, but they just-, Jesse fucked up, he knew it.

It was too late to promise to be home more often, to make up for it.

His boyfriend was just.

Tired.

So they broke up. His now ex-boyfriend moved out of his house and Jesse all but jumped the rest of the way headfirst into chromeskull.

It was around 7 months after the breakup that it happened.

Jesse's face melted, was bashed in by a baseball bat and he was rushed to the hospital.

The days he had to spend in the hospital were the worst. His whole head was wrapped in bandages, he couldn't see anything. Not that his vision would have been the best, the eye he had left was, well, sewn back in.

About 2 weeks in, the doctors said he could 'have visits.'

Jesse scoffed at the very idea.

Visits.

Who the fuck would visit him.

Spann was there, she was his “visit”. She's been there since day one when visits were not allowed, so it wasn't a visit.

Preston was doing fuck knows what, whatever the fuck Spann told him to, he supposed. He came around once to tell him he fucking killed his piggy and Jesse was furious. Of course, he wouldn’t have the balls to come again.

Then, one day Jesse sat in his fucking hospital room as usual. The bandages were off but still, his skin was so tender the very air made it hurt.

He heard the sound of Spann's short heels clacking on the floor but they were different, they sounded rushed.

Jesse prepared himself for shitty news.

His company was failing, he had been found out, he was dying, things were going to shit.

He expected to hear any of those.

But not, "You have a...special visit, today," spoken in a tender tone, one meant to calm him.

Jesse still couldn't type. Not that he _couldn't_ , his muscle memory was impeccable, even if his vision was still a little....blurry.

But they wouldn’t give him a fucking phone.

So he had to sign.

'Who is it' he signed to her.

"It's Morgan."

Jesse felt a cold zap go up and down his spine, making his stiff muscles tense up even more.

His throat worked around a lump as Spann quickly added, "I can tell him you're not interested-, He told me to ask first, he... He's very worried, but doesn't want to bother you, of course,"

 _Of course_.

Of course, he was worried. Morgan would personally take care of Jesse every time, be it a small papercut on his finger or something more serious.

But Jesse knew what he looked like now.

And he couldn't let Morgan see it.

Jesse was...struggling to deal with it. Well, who the fuck wouldn’t, right?

His mood was swinging every second, he hated it more and more. Wished he was passed the fuck out until they could try to work on his face again, which wouldn't be in a very long fucking while.

But Morgan. Fuck.

Jesse craved comfort.

The sound of his voice, his arms around him, the promise that things were going to be fucking okay.

He wouldn't believe him but damn, hearing that sure made a fucking difference.

"What should I tell him?"

Jesse thought for a second, knuckles turning white as he did.

Then he had an idea.

' Call the nurses, bandage my head, then bring him in.'

Spann nodded tightly, walking out even faster than when she came in.

Jesse sighed as the bandage was done. He wouldn't be able to see, but Morgan wouldn't see him, so it was a...plus? A neutral? He didn't fucking know.

At least the room had cameras, so he'd be able to watch Morgan’s reactions later.

'Bring him in,' he signed.

And so it was done.

Jesse heard the door opening and his hands balled into fists. He heard 2 pairs of footsteps, knowing one was Spann and the other was Morgan, probably wearing the stupid Nike's Jesse knew he loved so much.

He heard whispering and Jesse couldn't take it, banging his fist on the mattress, his face hurting from grimacing inside the bandages.

"He doesn't want me here, I'm gonna go-"

Jesse heard the voice and suddenly the anger vanished, angst taking its place.

Then sadness, depression, frustration.

All at once.

Jesse never wanted to speak so badly in his life.

He banged the mattress again, making sure Morgan was looking at him when he pointed at him, or well, the direction of where his voice was coming from, and then down to his side.

He was heaving, chest rising and falling as he sucked air in through the bandages, fingers still pointing to his side. The 'get over here' message loud and clear.

"I'm coming," He heard before quiet footsteps made their way to his side.

Jesse wondered if his hair was still the same, Morgan used to change it a lot. Was it the same color? Did it still smell like fresh herbs? He wondered if he was still pale from being home all day waiting for him or if he was going out more now that he was single.

But foremost, Jesse wondered, 'Why are you here?’

It was a moment until he heard Morgan shifting by his side, "I...When I heard of the accident, I came as fast as I could-"

As fast? Jesse's 'accident' had been over 2 weeks ago.

"When I arrived you were just out of surgery - they wouldn't tell me more or let me see you," he said, and Jesse could hear him bouncing his thigh up and down, something he did when he was incredibly anxious.

"Spann promised to keep me updated, so I rented a place"

Rented.

A place.

'Why'

"I was afraid you would...Wouldn’t-...I was afraid."

'Why'

"Because I...Care," he sighed.

"I’ve always cared, and I doubt I will stop anytime soon"

Jesse slowly dropped his hands to his lap, his mind supplying him with all the good memories he had with Morgan.

All the holidays, the dates, the vacations, even the hardships he faced with his company and personal life, Morgan was just...always there.

Even when he didn't need to be.

"I know you might not want to have me here, but it would go against everything I ever said, everything that I am if I didn't come...I just, I just want you to know that I'm, I-"

Jesse could feel his heart speeding up as he spoke.

"I'll always be here for you, we might not be a couple anymore and it might not be my business, but I just-,"

He took a deep breath, reminding Jesse that he had to breathe as well.

"I don't want to see you suffer,"

"I'll be in town for a while more” He continued, “Spann has my address, and...my phone number is still.. the same," he said quietly as he remembered all the texting Jesse would trade with him during the day.

"If there's anything I can do, I-, please let me know and if there isn't, I-.... I wish you luck, Jesse", he said as he stood up, "I'm glad you're alive."

Jesse heard the first sound of a footstep as shot his hand out, grasping Morgan's wrist tightly, preventing him from leaving and startling him in the process.

Morgan panted as if he ran a marathon, looking at the hand closed around his wrist. Jesse breathed heavily as well, his hand slowly relaxing as the seconds went by, adjusting to intertwine his fingers with Morgan's.

Jesse didn't sign anything, just held Morgan's hand, head craned a bit in the direction Morgan's face would be as he squeezed softly.

Morgan felt his eyes sting with unshed tears, his own fingers slowly tightening over Jesse's, Jesse's hand engulfing him either way.

Jesse's breathing slowly normalized, his thumb moving slightly against the back of Morgan's hand like he used to do when they were walking together or simply sitting in the living room holding hands.

Morga did his best not to sniffle and distress Jesse even further as the tears ran down his face, "I promise I'll be back, anytime, any day, you call me and I'm here, okay?" He said, struggling to keep the wavering from his voice.

Jesse nodded softly, hand hesitating to let Morgan go.

Morgan looked at the door and saw nurses and a doctor, the doctor motioning to a tray of medicine, fresh bandages, and ointments. All along with a clear mask sitting beside all of it.

Morgan nodded, looking back at Jesse, "I'll let you rest now, okay? They won't let me stay but I swear I won't be far, yeah?" He said, squeezing Jesse's hand softly.

Jesse could only nod, the feeling of having to let Morgan go away again crushing him inside.

"You're gonna be okay, Jesse, I promise," he heard Morgan lifting his hand, gently pressing his lips to the back of it. Soft, plush lips kiss his hand before caressing it and slowly letting it go.

Jesse gulped as he nodded again, hearing Morgan’s footsteps backing off before hearing the doctor's voice and the shuffling of the nurses around him.

Morgan was there day in and day out, coming whenever Jesse asked him to, whenever things were just too much.

When Jesse was allowed to go home, Morgan was included in the 'clear to enter' list, which he never really left in the first place.

One night, things got out of hand.

Jesse was having a fit of anger and was thrashing his study. Spann called Morgan the second it started as Jesse couldn't really leave the house to let out his frustrations on any piggies yet.

Morgan parked the car and ran up the stairs of the mansion, throwing the car keys on the coffee table before running further into the house. He passed by a worried-looking Spann before he reached the study.

Jesse had the clear mask on, a mockery of a face that held him together while it healed.

Jesse was panting, suit stretched over his muscles as he broke the leg of a chair with a kick, stopping when he heard Morgan's breathing behind him.

Jesse turned around abruptly, shoulders set with the pose that would make anyone shiver, his energy was murderous while stared at Morgan through the mask.

"Jes-AH-" Morgan yelped in surprise as Jesse yet again grabbed his wrist, hauling him forward in a crushing hold.

"Jesse-! Jesse, you're hurting me-" Morgan tried prying his hand free as Jesse shook him again, his other hand coming up to take the mask off, his face scrunched up in a silent snarl as he pulled Morgan again, making him face him directly, "Jesse, I'm not afraid of you! Stop!" Morgan yelled, making Jesse freeze a little.

The grip slacked. Fingers releasing the wrist, leaving angry red marks behind that Jesse would definitely regret later when he calmed down.

He wanted to turn away, to hide, to drop on his knees and cry just like he wanted to scream, to punch, and to hurt.

Morgan's hands on his shoulders almost made him flinch, his eye focusing on Morgan's face as he spoke. "I'm not scared, Jesse, I'm not going anywhere,"

Why wouldn't he just leave? Jesse didn't want him to but why wouldn't he?

Jesse felt tired, all the rush dying down. The weeks of staying still in a hospital bed took a toll on him as much as the angst and sadness did.

Jesse stared at Morgan's face and then to the red wrist. A single sob wracked through his shoulders in a way that screamed ‘pathetic’ in his head.

He let his head drop down on Morgan's shoulder, the bit of his forehead that wasn't mangled resting against it as Morgan hugged him, wrapping his arms around him.

Jesse loved him so much, so much.

Slowly his own hands came up to hold Morgan to him, a shaky sigh leaving his lips as Morgan spoke quietly to him.

"I won't leave you ever again, ever, please, please don't hurt yourself anymore," he felt Morgan's hands brushing up and down on his back, the act making his eye drop closed.

Jesse tightened his hold on him before pulling back slightly, eye scanning Morgan's face for any sign that betrayed his words, that it was a joke, not true, just...pretend.

He didn't find it, lifting up a hand to brush against his cheek instead, Morgan's hand coming up to cover his own as Jesse lowered his head again, resting his forehead against Morgan's, promising himself to never lose him again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm WthTorke on Tumblr, I take requests and commissions over there ;) Hope you like this lil collection from my posts!
> 
> Would love to know what you think!


End file.
